Catherine's Return
by lovethefandom
Summary: I was never happy with the way the 1987 Beauty and the Beast series ended, particularly Catherine's sudden and rather underwhelming death. So - I figured I'd end it the way I wanted, with Catherine returning (death was never very final in the series anyway).


The pain of her loss remained fresh in his mind despite the months that had passed, and he was quite certain that it would remain there throughout his lifetime. His only concern was that his poor child might feel it in him, as Catherine had sometimes felt his feelings, the way he had for so long felt hers.

The child in his arms, sweet and beautiful, alleviated much of the pain and concern from him, young Jacob gave him a great sense of hope for the future, not only for himself but for all of those who lived in the tunnels. The last reminder he had that he had once truly had love, and a life had been born of such a thing.

He could have never known, that on the other side of the city, hidden away in the basement of Saint Vincent's hospital, his true love lay resting and thinking of him. There had been many reasons for the world to think her dead, the main reason being that Peter had encouraged them to believe it. The morphine that had delivered the lethal injection had indeed put Catherine's life at great risk, and for a considerable while she had lay waiting on Death's door. It was only the thought of Vincent, and the child that had been taken from her that had kept her fighting for survival.

Vincent could have never been expected to spot the weak signs of life she showed the night he had returned her to her own bed, and left her to be discovered in an environment of love, rather than on the rooftop where she had watched her child stolen away, or in the building where she had been kept prisoner for so long. It had given him some comfort at least, to think that she would not have to spend a moment longer in that terrible place.

The paramedics, the police, the friends and even the doctors who had seen her in the hours that followed all too missed the signs. When things had settled a little Peter had gone to her in the morgue, having been informed that the autopsy would be performed soon and it might be his final chance to say goodbye. But holding her hand, weeping and telling her yet again of the first time they had met, with her screaming and naked as a newborn child, he felt a faint pulse beneath his fingers and froze in his words.

"Catherine?" he breathed desperately, feeling the faintest pulse of blood pass the vein beneath his touch again. He was as fast as he could be in selecting a team of two people he trusted to help him, he feared that although she was alive still, it would not last, telling anyone would only put them through the pain of her death twice. No, he would do his best for her, he would pray, and he would keep her secret just as he would anyone from the world below. It was difficult, he insisted that he perform the autopsy, and was able to offer a cause of death and some information to those who needed it. The cause of death, however temporary it had been, was easily identified in a blood test, and dialysis helped to flush the toxin from her system and bring her slowly closer to recovery.

Peter was astounded to discover that Catherine had given birth almost immediately prior to her murder. There were many questions on the subject that he wished to ask, like if Vincent knew, he even questioned briefly whether Vincent was truly the father, for although he knew that they loved one another deeply he had never seen any indication that they had been intimate with one another. If Vincent was the father, would the child be like him? did it mean that Vincent was human if he and a human could produce offspring? Where was the child now?

In the end, he decided to tell the police, perhaps knowing that a missing child was involved might help them to find the person responsible for her current condition.

Catherine was still very weak when her funeral was held, only he knew that he was watching an empty coffin be buried. There had been an incident of body-snatching on the road between the hospital and the funeral home and Peter had managed to convince everyone that Catherine's body had been among those stolen. The police of course had not released this information, so save those at the funeral the horror of wondering what had happened to her corpse.

"I have seen very little of you of late," Father said appearing behind him and surprising him.

"How is Vincent?" Peter asked, knowing that Father would never demand an explanation for why he had not been below since Catherine's body was discovered.

"He has been absorbed in the search for his son," Father replied somewhat distantly.

"His son? So he knew of the child?" Peter asked, shocked to hear it. Peter had sent word to the tunnels that Catherine had given birth shortly before she was found, but he had not known that the child was a boy, there was no way of knowing that.

"He was with Catherine at the end, she told him that their child was beautiful, and his son."

There was silence between the two men for a moment and they looked around the faces of the others who had attended the funeral. Many of the helpers had come, some of Catherine's friends and colleagues, as well as the victims of crimes she had investigated over the years, the victims that she had helped.

The funeral was a long and sad one, both men were too absorbed in their own thoughts and sorrow to notice the strangers there, the woman who looked at every single face with interest and keen curiosity, and the photographer who captured each and every face for future reference.

Time passed slowly after that, Peter couldn't be sure that was happening below, his concentration and time were focused on Catherine, who became stronger and stronger as the weeks turned to months. She spoke now, and most frequently of Vincent and their child.

"Did the child look like Vincent?" Peter asked her one afternoon as he sat by her bed checking her over.

"He has his father's eyes," she told him softly and smiled to herself. "When can I go? I have to find him," she urged, her voice offering a brief tone of strength that it had lacked since she had gained conciousness. Both knew that she was still much too week, and would likely continue to be for some time, Peter said nothing and after some moments silence he finished making his notes on her current condition and left the room.

"Vincent has him," Peter woke Catherine from her dazed slumber and offered her a broad grin.

"What?" she groaned sleepily.

"I just got a request for supplies, with the news that Vincent found and retrieved your son last night, they are both safe Catherine," he told her, still grinning and with a brightness in his voice that she had not heard in so very long.

"Let me go to them," she pleaded but he only shook his head and insisted on delaying such an action.

"You must wait until you are recovered, you are still too weak to travel, but soon. I promise."

The joy of having his child back was more than Vincent could have hoped for. He stood in his chamber, reading to the child as he so often did. He read the velveteen rabbit, for the story reminded him of Catherine who he recalled had been fond of it and who he knew had been read the tale as a child herself.

"I loved that book as a child," a familiar voice called to him from the entrance of his chamber.

"As did Catherine," Vincent purred softly, setting his son down in the crib to turn and face Diane.

"You visit us often this past week," he pointed out with a slight smile playing at his rather feline lips.

"I have come to care for the people down here," she admitted with a smile, stepping slightly towards Vincent with her eyes fixed on his. "I miss you when I'm not here."

"You should not neglect your life and work so easily, you are of course welcome here and we shall always consider you to be a good friend, but your world is above," it was a gentle cautioning, his experience with Catherine had shown him what could come of trying to live between both worlds, and he did not wish that for Diane, he had come to consider her a close friend.

"Let me be with you," she scolded, her tone was playful but her expression was oddly serious and the feeling he got from her confused and somewhat concerned Vincent.

"What is it?" he asked, closing the distance between them a little more.

"I want to be with you Vincent," her voice shook slightly as she said it and her cheeks flushed a slight shade of rose as she approached and outstretched her arms to embrace him. Although at first Vincent was stunned to silence he quickly moved back away from the attempted embrace, leaving Diane stood there looking disappointed and slighted.

"Do you refuse me because of Catherine?" she demanded, her shaken voice made it clear she was close to tears now.

"I care about you Diane, you know I do, but as no more than a friend. I have had the love of my life and lost her, there won't be another for me," he tried to be honest with her, to tell her everything gently and in a way that made his feelings clear.

"She is gone Vincent! She's dead and I doubt that her last wish was for you to be alone for the rest of your life!" despite the tears it was anger that fuelled Diane now, she was frustrated which could be understood, but her anger seemed misplaced, Vincent suspected that there was something else going on here.

"Catherine is not gone, she is with me always. I will never be alone so long as I have her love, our child and this world as my family." He turned away from her now, for her loud and angry tone had woekn Jacob in his crib. He reached down and scooped up the child in his large paw like hands, drawing the baby to his breast in a warm and comforting embrace as he spoke softly in his deep and melodic tones.

"Please Vincent," she begged, more softly now.

"Diane," he cut her off before she could continue. "It is not me that you need to be talking to and you know it. You don't love me, your feelings are for Joe, we both know that," he had heard it in her voice and seen it in her eyes when he had found her speaking with Joe one day. Diane was silent but glaring at the ground. It was true, she felt a strange warmth for Joe, but she couldn't speak with him as she did with Vincent, she could never tell him of everything she now knew, and on top of all that he too loved Catherine instead of her.

Accepting that the argument was futile Diane quietly excused herself and left Vincent's chamber. He dropped down on his bed and looked at the child in his arms.

"I'm sorry that you never got to know your mother for yourself, but I promise to fill your life with her stories, so that you shall know her and her love for both of us," he purred to the child, who simply stretched out his tiny hand and smiled.

Their time alone was short lived, for soon Mary appeared at the entrance to their chamber. "Vincent, am I interrupting something?" she asked, looking lovingly on at father and child.

"No, what is it Mary?" he asked, feeling suddenly concerned.

"Nothing to worry about," she reassured softly. "We received word that Peter is coming with a surprise, he wants you to wait for him in Father's chamber," she informed him, stepping closer to greet young Jacob, whom she had grown to love as much as any of the children of the tunnels.

Of course Vincent agreed and stood, carrying Jacob in his arms he grabbed his son's book as he passed the table and walked with Mary some of the way to Father's chamber, but she left him along the way to return to her other charges; the children.

Vincent later sat at his Father's table, when they had so often played chess together, but not he sat reading to the child that lay half asleep in his arms.

" Autumn passed and Winter, and in the Spring, when the days grew warm and sunny, the boy went out to play in the wood behind the house. And while he was playing two rabbits crept out from the bracken and peeped at him. One of them was brown all over, but the other had strange markings under his fur, as though long ago he had been spotted, and the spots still showed through. And about his little soft nose and his round black eyes there was something familiar," Vincent spoke with such a sweet voice, so gentle and deep. However he didn't have the chance to finish the final part of the tale, before a voice from behind interrupted him.

"That was always my favourite part," the voice spoke.

For a moment Vincent went completely still, hardly daring to believe that such a thing was possible. But he spun round nonetheless and took in the wonderful sight of her, before abandoning his seat and his story to fly into her arms and embrace her close to him, almost suspecting that her image would vanish if he touched it. For some time they just stood there, together. Vincent holding Jacob between them while he wept with joy.

"How is this possible?" he breathed, at last releasing her from the embrace to look upon her face once more. "I saw you Catherine, you were dead."

"For a time I was, but I could never leave you alone," she whimpered with a smile, wanting to cry into his arms.

There were several minutes of crying, touching, hugging and weepy laughter. They struggled to speak in the fierce turmoil of emotions the felt in that moment.

Peter and Father waited some time, wanting to give the family time to greet one another before they entered, and yet they were still surprised when they walked into the chamber and found the couple kneeling on the ground, still with tears running down their cheeks and their hands clutching to one another while young Jacob lay across their laps.

"It's good to have you back Catherine," Father greeted, breaking the two from their concentration in each other.

"You knew she was alive?" Vincent demanded, suddenly feeling confusion and anger building within his joy.

"I only found out as she made her way here, it is Peter we have to thank for her return," Father informed him.

Vincent turned an accusatory look to Peter.

"It doesn't matter how it happened Vincent," Catherine spoke, breaking the tension, "Peter watched me die more than once and helped me fight my way back. I owe him my life. Let's be grateful to him. Thanks to Peter I am alive and the world above thinks me dead, we can finally be together Vincent, forever." She tightened her grip on Vincent's hand and nestled her face into his shoulder as she had done so many times before when seeking the comfort of his closeness.

"Quite right," Father agreed cheerfully, "we shall have a celebration to welcome Catherine as our newest resident, I'll make the arrangements, you two rest." He smiled and indicated with a wave of his hand towards the chamber entrance that they should retire for now. He was certain that they would want some time alone, and he hoped that he might have some chance of beating Peter in a game of chess.

Feelings were confused and everything seemed so dreamlike. It wasn't until they had arrived in his chambers, set little Jacob down in his crib to allow the child to sleep, and finally sat down together that they realised. Almost in the same moment they discovered that their bond had returned, that empathic connection as Father had called it, was back. They could feel the closeness of one another within their very souls, and Vincent was thrilled to finally have Catherine's thoughts and feelings back alongside his own.

It made everything so more intense, he touched her cheek and leaned forward, their lips touching briefly at first, tenderly in a kiss that was nervous and wet with tears. He could feel his own fear, that at any moment he might wake up and find that this was all some wonderful dream, but churning within him were Catherine's many confused and fierce emotions. Excitement, joy, nervousness, passion, she could hardly contain herself and he wasn't sure whether to offer her comfort or just keep kissing her.

"Peter told me that you named him Jacob," she almost whispered, resting her head against Vincent's chest while he stroked her hair.

"I could think of nothing better for our child," Vincent told her gently.

"Yes, it is perfect. Everything is so perfect," her voice was a gentle sigh. For a moment they remained still and silent, pressed against one another as though attempting to push their way inside the other.

At last Catherine looked up at him and smiled, pressing her lips to his once more. Although her emotions were still rampant and unsure Vincent's fear had abated and passion had taken hold in its place. He brought one hand to the back of her neck and the other to her waist, holding her close and pulling her into the kiss. They fell deeper into one another, and he felt the excitement spark in her.

He was for a moment reminded of the first time he had made love to Catherine. She had been so passionate and excited, but fear had dominated him, fear that he might hurt her in his excitement, fear that he had no idea what he was doing and most of all fear that he would frighten her away. It was of course Catherine who had helped him to overcome those fears, with gentle kisses and her hand guiding his, taking control and making it perfectly clear that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She did the same now.

Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the passion of his kisses tenfold, she pulled him down with her into the bed and caressed her way down his spine to tug his shirt up his back and run her fingers through the warmth of his fur.

Vincent broke their kiss and pulled the shirt over his head, before teaching for Catherine's and doing the same. Beautiful Catherine, her flesh so soft and warm, inviting his kisses. Light, gentle kisses that pressed against her neck and collar bone in quick succession.

"I love you Catherine," he whispered in a tone that almost seemed urgent.

"And I love you," she breathed back, still running her fingers through the fur of his back, caressing him and almost clutching to him.

Within minutes they had stripped one another completely and now Vincent held her close to him as he drew the covers around them both. She pushed him down and lay over him and kissing him urgently, finding her fingers entwined in his long golden mane as she lost herself in the heat and passion of his mouth.

Vincent's large hands found her hips and guided her down on him, growling into the kiss as he entered her and feeling a thrill of power and lust and she moaned and broke the kiss to gasp and pressed her face into his neck.

They stayed like that a moment, still and as close to one another as they could be, before slowly and gently he began to move, holding her and guiding her with his movement. Her breath was heavy and tickled against his neck as she pressed herself into him. They writhed against one another, staying as close as they could, keeping as much of their body's holding to one another as they were able. Clinging to each other's body as though they might float away.

Catherine's fingers clung tightly to Vincent's shoulders as soft moans passed her lips. She clutched tighter to him, and tighter with each movement, her whole being tensed over him before suddenly falling against him, limp and quivering with such a satisfied sigh as she had never made before.

Feeling her tighten around him thrilled Vincent and spurred on his lust, he could feel her pleasure almost as though it was his own, he could feel it building in her, and found himself gripping her more fiercely. His lust threatened to take over completely, his gentle face contorted into a fanged snarl, his soft melodic voice replaced with a primal growl as she reached her climax and he clutched her close, quivering himself as his passions erupted into her.

She fell limp against him and he against the bed, wrapping one arm around her and stroking her lower back lightly with the fingers of the other. He felt a familiar scar there and recalled the time she had been shot before he could get to her to protect her, he stroked the old wound. They lay there peacefully until he heard her breathing even and soften before he felt her relax completely in a deep and peaceful sleep.

"Never leave me again," he whispered, stroking her hair and rolling her gently from his chest and to his side where he embraced her and kissed her brow lightly.


End file.
